Overlord Ascension: Magus
by Omegalus
Summary: Overlords have come and gone in the great scheme of things. Now is the time for an Overlord to Ascend and become the most dangerous of them all. Watch as an Overlord rises beyond the limitations of mana. Rated M for later chapters
1. Prologue: Part 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Overlord, only the original characters and in later chapters original magics and locations

**NB: **Also please note that as I'm from the UK I'm using the British spelling of words. e.g. USA "Armor", UK "Armour"

**12/8/13 AN: **Went back and made some alterations to this chapter. I intend to make some changes to the other chapters within the next week.

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A tall and imposing figure stood atop the snow-covered hill overlooking a small village, a war hammer resting between his hands. He rolled his shoulders to ensure his chain-mail sat comfortably beneath his heavy plated armour. The village burned a beautiful orange as the people ran around screaming, and being slaughtered by an army of strange creatures that appeared to be related to the long extinct gremlins and were composed of four tribes. He came not to save the village, but merely to watch it burn. No help would come as the village lay over a week's travel by carriage from Nordberg, the largest of the villages in this mountainous region.

Four of the strange gremlin like beasts walked up and stood by his side, each were old and greying, but their skin still showed which tribe they belonged too. The one that stood on his left was a greying brown, with a hunched back and garbed in thick cloth and had a strange glowing stone dangling from a fishing rod strapped to his back, and stubbly beard of grey. Next to the brownish one stood a being whose skin once appeared to be red, with twisted ram horns growing from its head, although the left one was broken, had a weakly glowing yellow stomach a had a thin tail, which ended in a flat spade shape and wore only a simple pair of pants.

These two answered to the names Gnarl and Pyre, Gnarl was the oldest living of the brown-skinned tribe and the oldest of all the creatures, whilst Pyre was the oldest of the red-skinned tribe and was actually the youngest of the four.

On the armoured man's right stood a greying green-skinned creature with short bony spikes protruding from the ridges that served as its eyebrows and its jaw line, which had fierce claws on its hands and a thick lizard like tail, clad in a simple tunic. This green-skinned being was known as Snake. Whilst on the far right stood the oldest member of the blue-skinned tribe, Mortis, the blues are a tribe that had webbed hands and feet and like the greens had strong tails. The blues also have gills suggesting a dual respiratory system for an amphibious life style and ears that are webbed in appearance. Mortis wore black robes with a hood drawn over his head.

All these tribes had two things in common. They were known as Minions, and they all served a single being. Someone who is feared as an Overlord.

Gnarl turned to the armoured man.

"As much as I enjoy seeing you expand on your empire, Sire. Especially so brutally, I hate to beg the question. Why here? There are other places that are more valuable that we could have taken over."

"Gnarl'ss right you know. Why thiss place?" Came the slightly hissing voice of Snake. "My Lord."

The man drew in a sigh, then spoke in the gruffness his Minions had noticed from the ash inhalation he had suffered months ago. "I've had told you all more than once that I'm an Empath, one who has the ability to sense and understand completely another's emotions." Upon receiving a nod, he continued, but not before his burning orange eyes saw Mortis muttering in the way he does which means he is communicating long-distance to a fellow blue. "I sensed an all-encompassing emotion over this village. The entire village is quivering in fear, but not about us, or those foolish enough to defy us. They fear something else more…and hate it. Something…or maybe someone has struck fear into them." The Overlord turns to Mortis, "and perhaps the Blues have found a candidate?"

The other Minions turned to the ancient blue, "Aye, they have," Mortis answered in the gurgling manner common in his tribe. "But you won't like it, Sire. I doubt even Gnarl would find the answer pleasant." That got a curious look from the Overlord and the other three minions. Violence and misery was like their bread and butter. "We should head into the village. It will be easier to show you than explaining it."


	2. Prologue: Part 2

**AN:** Updated 18/8/13. I intend to update the third chapter soon, and if my writer's block is gone I will hopefully get chapter 4 out soon there after.

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Mortis lead his fellow elder Minions and the Overlord down into the towns centre, it took nearly three hours for them to reach it since they regularly had to stop so Gnarl could catch his breath and mutter for the umpteenth time "I'm too old to be in the field, why did you drag me here Sire?" This was always met with silence. The fact that the other Minions actually doing the attacking would run up to their master with offerings of gold and other items they deemed worthy regularly didn't help with there time, and during these processions of gifts the Overlord was reminded how simple minded the majority of the Minions were. Calling out in childlike voices and throwing on any scraps they found as armour or clothes, at least one brown ran past wearing a teapot on their head like a helm.

Finally reaching the village centre the four elder Minions stood with their lord before a small stone prison. The Overlord sent a questioning look towards Mortis who merely motioned for the armour-clad man to enter the prison.

The Overlord swung his war hammer into the wooden door causing it to shatter, and stepped forth into the prison. No candles or torches lit the area, all was dark within except for a room at the back that had a faint blue glow emitting from between the cracks in the oaken door. He strode forward and as soon as he touched the door it collapsed inwards and a jolt of raw mana knocked him back a few steps before it rapidly died down. The Overlord gazed in confusion at the young boy chained to the back of the room, a kid that could barely keep his eyes open and was starved, appeared to be the source of the glow. A mere child with enough raw mana to rival a 3rd year apprenticed mage.

"Oh boy," came Pyre's raspy voice. "That kid's magic is as untamed as a fire"

"Indeed the child is strong. He could rival most master Wizards before he's twenty if given the right training," answered Mortis.

Gnarl chuckled evilly and began talking excitedly "Oh! Imagine all the delightfully Evil things we could do if we forced the boy to use that power against our enemies." He began rubbing his chin in thought. "So much work we coul- God Damn It! I'm going to dunk Grubby in boiling oil for shaving my beard! I can't concentrate! It took seven decades to grow and groom into that perfect goatee for contemplation!"

Pyre and Snake exchanged a look before the red, handed his green brethren some gold as Snake gloated, "told you he'd complain about that brown'ss prank again."

"Gnarl! Be silent!" Commanded the Overlord. "Now child, can you hear me?" The boy did not reply. He waved his left gauntlet and the small yellow gem inlaid within glowed as it did its job in sending a mental summons directly to any minion he wanted. A moment later three blues rushed into the room and began using their natural ability to cast healing magic on the boy.

As the blues worked there magic the child's mana receded, allowing the room to be lit from the fires coming in through the door and the healing glow coming from the hands of the blues.

The Overlord took in the boy's appearance as best he could. Probably between six and eight years old, short for his age, scrawny, underweight and very little muscle mass. He was skin and bones mostly. Lank and brittle hair that was an off and unhealthy grey, whilst the half-lidded eyes were dull yellow and his skin was a sickly grey. As the Overlord finished taking in the boys appearance the blues finished weaving their magic around the boy and after asking Pyre to break the chains at the anchor points on the floor and wall began conversing with Mortis.

The Overlord watched as Pyre drew raw heat into his hands from the glowing fiery core that all reds had. This granted them the unique qualities of being able to create and absorb fires, and they were naturally fireproof because of this. Pyre took his super-heated hands and began melting the chains at each anchor point.

"Sire," Mortis's gurgles drew his attention. "My tribesmen have done what they can. The child's mana is dangerously uncontrolled and as you can tell, his health is poor, Zap, Aqua and Toad have done what they can to stabilize the child. However, the child will die if he's not looked after. So, my Lord, what should we do with the child?"

The meaning of the question hung in the air like an unwanted cloud. Kill the child, leave him to rot, send him to someone and risk him using his magic against them in the future, or do they take him in? The Overlord thought hard about what to do when the decision was made for him. He felt the same loneliness and anger in the boy which his own Grandfather, the Overlord who conquered the Glorious Empire and was know only as 'Witchboy' during his childhood, and also the child's own weak voice begging. "H-help…me-e… "

Once the town was razed to the ground and all but ash and scarce memories remained, the Overlord, Master of the Minion Army, Conquer of Cities, took an orphan boy deep into the bowels of the planet to what was commonly called the Netherworld and gave him a home within his own, the Overlord's castle. the 'Netherworld Tower'.

The Tower had a new resident in the orphan, who threw away everything he once was and slowly over the years which he spent with the Minions and the Overlord became the unofficial heir to the throne.

Unknown to all, the child's name quickly began being whispered through the threads of fate and destiny. Soon the name Victor Magus, would be feared.


	3. Life in the Netherworld: Part 1

**Updated 6/9/13**

**Hi everyone. Made some small changes to this chapter as I have said I would. Unfortunately I'm finding it harder to get into the right mind frame for this story so Chapter 4 and all later chapters are likely to have odd and random posting periods. However I will not abandon this story.**

**Anyway hope the revisions so far makes the story better.**

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It had been five years since the Overlord brought young Victor into the Netherworld Tower and already the boy had proven to be someone to take pride in, although the child did not abuse or torment the Minions as he had at his age, when his own father was the Overlord. Victor was regularly found throwing insults playfully back and forth with Quaver, an old brown with one eye turned court jester or reading in the Overlord's library.

The Overlord had just returned from the Battle rock, an arena and dungeon where various beasts are kept for training against alongside a few warriors who strayed too close to one of the warp gates the Overlord used to travel from the Netherworld to the surface and between surface locales, when he heard the explosion and swearing in the kitchen.

He cast the tri-horned helm that all Overlords wore during their reign to let lose his choppy red and grey hair as he stormed into the kitchen. What he saw was not what he was expecting. Well the Reds laughing and rolling on the floor he had expected since that was there normal reaction to a fellow red overheating an oven with their flames and causing explosions, but this time some of the servant girls he kept were laughing as well whilst the pudgy chef was swearing at his adopted son. Victor, now thirteen, sat covered in soot. His clothes singed and his silvery hair had a bit sticking straight up with a small flame on the tip like a candle.

He gave a light cough. The Reds stopped immediately laughing and slowly got up off the ground and the servants were quick to follow. The chef kept swearing and berating the boy though, the Overlord had noticed over the years that the chef had taken great joy in telling off the boy. It was time he made an example of him.

"And another thing you disgusting street rat! If you play with magic in MY kitchen one more time I'll-ARGH!" The chef's lecture quickly turned to agonized screams as the Overlord broke his arm.

"If you're quite finished berating young Victor," came the Overlord's steely voice, "then you should get your arm fixed by some of my Blues. Isn't that nice of me?"

"Y-yes my L-lord. Than-thank you my Lord." The Chef began hurrying out of the kitchen before Ashe, a Red that Victor had a good friendship with, nailed the chef in the back with a fireball. "ARGH!"

The Reds began snickering and returned to their duties, with the servant girls following suit. The Overlord motioned for Victor to follow him and he eagerly got up and quickly wiped some suit from his face and clothes, and upon noticing the flame extinguishing the candle like wick of hair before catching up to his father.

"Mind explaining what you were doing back there?" He asked the boy

"Well my Lord…I mean, father" Victor began, still getting use to calling his saviour by such an affectionate term. "I was trying to expand on my magic studies."

"By blowing up an oven?" The Overlord asked amused

"No, I asked both Gnarl and Mortis about how to shape mana from the lightning element to other elements such as fire since lightning is all I've managed so far." He gestured for the boy to continue, "Gnarl claimed that he didn't understand enough about magic that isn't channelled through Overlord artifacts and Mortis said that his forte was death magic and Pyre would be my best bet for Fire Magic."

"And Pyre told you to ask the Reds who help keep the ovens hot for the basics?" The Overlord asked Victor, getting a nod of confirmation.

"I'll ask Pyre to give you some basic training exercises later, but for now I need to attend a meeting with some diplomats from the cities that are having trouble with rebel movements. Why don't you go in the library and read up some more on the lineage I am leaving to you, who knows you might stumble across some information regarding how you could apply your magic."

Victor smiles "of course father and thank you." He turns to head to the library when he turns back to the Overlord "Would it be okay if I take Layla to the library?"

The Overlord frowned internally at the request. Layla was the daughter of a servant girl who was raped in the Overlord's own tower without anyone knowing who the father was. Her mother died in childbirth, since then He had been trying to figure out how someone managed to keep their presence and actions hidden from the Minions.

"If you wish, but if I catch you trying to teach her to read again I'll have to punish you." Victor flinched, "Perhaps I'll have Gnarl give you his speech on the 'Birds and Bees' and of course how torture incorporated into it."

Victor shuddered then quickly bowed. "Of course father."

Victor quickly ran off to the Minion Barracks and asked some of the Greens where Layla was. Getting confirmation that she was enjoying the songs being sung by the one eyed Brown Minion, Quaver. Resident Court Jester and his fellow Browns who played the Drums and Harp for the accompanying music.

Victor made his way to the courtroom to meet his friend… not even realising the danger he was about to put her in.


End file.
